Chapter 25

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Chapter 25

"Red, Red Wallow I assume." said a deep voice. I raised my head, getting Damon's gaze. Gretel's son. I never knew that she had a son. Her hatred of men seemed to prove that.

My, my. Damon appeared young to me, he could easily be a few years older than I was.

Clearing my throat, I replied, "Yes," The man standing in front of me was Gretel's only weakness. Only if I could ease my way in and flip everything around then Gretel would have to pay the price instead and I'd return to the Luciano with my baby.

It sounded perfect in my head but there wasn't a single chance at using Gretel's son against him, after all, he was a warlock.

I was pulled out of my thoughts when Damon spoke, "I hope Theresa didn't harm you much. My mother has her ways to get her witches," His gaze settled on me and a twinkle of sparkle appeared in his eyes.

He wasn't like his mother.

I brushed away all the evil thoughts and shuddered, "No, I'm fine. Do I have my magic back?" I asked, glancing at my hands.

What was the woman even doing?

"It will take a few hours but yes, you'll have it back. I'd suggest not to try anything as my mother will be returning in a few and if she finds that you're doing something with your magic, she won't be pleased." He explained, his voice elegant as he spoke.

What was he? A lord?

"No, I'm not going to do anything. Thank you," I gave him a soft smile and then looked away.

"Are you hungry?"

"Yes, yes." I said, greedily, my stomach rumbling at the thought of food. I hadn't gotten anything to eat in the past few hours and it was getting difficult to focus of anything without food in my stomach, "Please," I added.

"I will have someone bring it to you,"

I sucked in a sharp breath and asked, "Could I go see Lisa? We were talking and then someone took me from her—"

"I'm afraid that won't be possible. You should rest while my mother returns and then we will talk," he replied, heading for the door and leaving.

I didn't want to be trapped her for another second. The room was killing me.

"Wait, wait," I jolted, bracing his elbow and then pulling away immediately after he turned around. "What does your mother want with me? I know about the chosen one but she does wants something else, right?"

For a brief moment, Damon stayed silent and my heartbeat quickened. I wasn't wrong. Gretel wanted something else as well. She just didn't want me to kill werewolves.

My attention darted back to him as he replied, "My mother isn't evil—she simply wants to avenge her sisterhood and the death of my sister."

"What?" I gasped, my pulse roaring in my head. Sister? Gretel had a daughter?

"Witches were killed in mass during the late 90's," He paused for a second and then continued, "By werewolves and hunters. During that clash, my sister was killed along with a lot other witches. They were killed by werewolves, specifically by your husband and his family."

I swallowed hard. Luciano never told me about witches. He wouldn't ever kill any of them. They were in peace with them or so I thought as Jaqueline was one of them.

"Luciano wouldn't kill a witch," I mumbled.

"He did, along with his parents and his pack. My mother wanted to ensure peace but they attacked her as well. We aren't horrible, there are worse people out there and you're on their side, Red." He explained, studying me with a stare that concerned me.

Gathering my thoughts, I breathed. Mr. Thomas told me about the battle that happened in the 90's but I never expected for Luciano to be a part of it.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, "But I'm not going to kill werewolves if that's all you and your mother wants. Blood in return of blood is never an answer to a grudge," I spat out, rudely.

"We will see,"

With that, Damon walked out and slammed the door before leaving. A click went off and it was locked. I sagged backwards, against the headboard of the bed and laid down for a moment, catching up to my running thoughts. Regardless of everything, I wasn't killing Luciano or his family—they meant everything to me.

Killing a single werewolf would almost be like taking life out of Nana as she was one of them and there was a probability my baby was a werewolf as well. I couldn't endanger their kind. They were stronger, spread across the world and had more strength than witches.

It would create war among the witches and the werewolves and I couldn't be the reason behind it.

It wasn't long before Gretel came back. One thing was for sure, she didn't come alone as I watched someone else leave the car with her. When she came to my room, she came along with a large book wrapped around her hands.

She slammed the book on the desk in front of me and I glanced at it. It was tattered, enormous and with a star sign above it.

"This was your mother's grimoire, had to fetch it from your old granny, she was hesitant but I put her to sleep." Gretel said, looking at me.

I stood up, tearing my eyes away from the grimoire and at her. "What? What did you with my Nana?" I snapped at her, fury brimming across my head.

"Just put her to sleep—don't worry, I didn't kill her, she'll be awake soon so sit back down." The old woman said, flickering her fingers and pushing me back on the bed with magic.

I tried to process her words but the anger got best out of me. My Nana was my everything, and dare Gretel go to her. I took a few deep breaths and calmed my racing nerves.

She'll be fine.

She'll be fine.

"What do you want me to with this?" I asked.

"It was your mother's grimoire so now, it's yours. Learn the spells, practice magic while you're here. There are a lot of details on how to kill werewolves." She explained, brushing the dust off the book and opening it.

The book struck open and landed on a certain page with drawings of wolves and shape-shifters. Did my mother learn all this?

"Who wrote this all?" I extended my hand to touch the crisp pages that were soaked in tea. The writings were clear and the spells were strong—involving things I had never done before.

"It was provided by me. Your mother was trained by me for years and years. Just when the perfect time came by, she ran away, and killed herself." Gretel said, rolling her eyes in disappointment.

My heart clenched. My mother was in pain for so long and she had no one to turn too. Everything made her so mad that she had to kill herself along with my father, leaving me alone with Nana.

I blinked and asked, "Perfect time?"

"To kill packs of werewolves, you'll need strength from moon, a recurring event such as the solar eclipse—which happens every two to three years." She continued.

I frowned, remembering the last time the moon was aligned with the sun, it was a few years ago and I watched with my Nana at the rooftop of our house. That was two years ago.

It was going to happen again.

In a few months.




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